


We're All Void and Stars and Shit

by mozaikmage



Series: Leftbook AU [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Chatting & Messaging, Dogs, Facebook, Fluff and Humor, Humor, M/M, Texting, leftbook
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-19
Updated: 2017-07-19
Packaged: 2018-12-04 00:41:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11543850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mozaikmage/pseuds/mozaikmage
Summary: Oikawa’s second Facebook account is named Alien Boii, has a profile picture of an alien face on a rainbow gradient background, and his location set to Hell, Michigan. He uses it to vent, share memes and talk to a very limited number of trusted friends.Late one night, he’s signed into the Alien Boii account when he sees a group suggested on the sidebar: “We’re All Void and Stars and Shit.” Hanamaki Takahiro and Yahaba Shigeru are members. I like void and stars and shit, he thinks, and clicks join. Makki accepts his join request immediately, and sends him a message:Makki: welcome 2 hell(a thank mr john green AU)(you don't have to read the other fic to understand this one)





	We're All Void and Stars and Shit

**Author's Note:**

> This is heavily inspired by the facebook group "thank mr john green" and associated large tagging groups. I have shamelessly ripped off some of the posts from there, but changed all the comments. You don't have to be familiar with these things to enjoy this, hopefully.  
> You know when you get really into a niche subculture and start thinking "I wonder what this fictional character would be like if they were also into this?" Yeah that's basically what happened.  
> Thanks to Caleb for helping me through every stage of this thing's existence, Jamie for letting me use our chats as reference and also being the best bff ever, and Connie for getting me into haikyuu in the first place.

Oikawa Tooru has two Facebook accounts. One of them has his real name, location, and college listed, a cute selfie for a profile picture, and all his relatives added as friends and then listed as the relations they actually are. The account is regularly updated with wholesome pictures of Oikawa hanging out with his friends, mildly humorous statuses about how stressful college life is, and comments on his family’s posts.

The other Facebook account has none of these things.

Oikawa’s second Facebook account is named Alien Boii, has a profile picture of an alien face on a rainbow gradient background, and his location set to Hell, Michigan. He uses it to vent, share memes and talk to a very limited number of trusted friends.

Late one night, he’s signed into the Alien Boii account when he sees a group suggested on the sidebar: “We’re All Void and Stars and Shit.” Hanamaki Takahiro and Yahaba Shigeru are members. I like void and stars and shit, he thinks, and clicks join. Makki accepts his join request immediately, and sends him a message:

Makki: welcome 2 hell

Alien Boii: thx bro

Alien Boii: maybe hell will improve my english lmao

He scrolls through the posts. They seem to mostly follow the same format: a screenshot of a post from Facebook or tumblr, edited for anonymity, with a snarky caption. The group seems to really hate that American writer John Green.

Someone posted the quote “why do we run from rain but sit in bathtubs full of water” with the caption “idk chuck why do you eat when you’re hungry but run when I throw an apple at your face”

Oikawa stares at it. “Maybe it’s because English isn’t my first language, but I thought this was kinda neat,” he types, carefully.

“Nah bro charles bukowski is a hack who beat his wife” someone else responds.

Oikawa shrugs, feeling this is not a hill to die on, and keeps scrolling.

A screenshot of a snapchat message: “I’m drunk and someone just sent me this ugh” OP writes. The screenshot reads: “I get what you mean. The loopy feeling that makes you not care. You can move how you want and do what you want, enjoy things more. Feel strangely alive yet dead all in the same breath.”

“If someone tried to send me this many words while I was drunk I’d unfriend them,” the first comment read. The commenter’s profile picture was a black square, and his name (Oikawa assumes it’s a guy, though he’s not really sure why he thinks so) is made up of two japanese characters. Iwa Hajime.

Oikawa replies to his comment with “does unfriending people make you feel strangely alive yet dead all in the same breath?”

He sees the “someone is typing” notification pop up, and waits.

“I hate you for making me think about this combination of things,” he receives, in addition to an angry react.

Oikawa messages Iwa Hajime.

“are you actually japanese?” he sends, in Japanese. To his surprise, he gets his friend request accepted and his message responded to within five minutes.

Iwa: ??? yeah???

Alien Boii: idk thought u might’ve been a weeb using japanese characters to look cool

Iwa: no this is my actual name

Iwa: well, part of it

Alien Boii: oh...i was going to make fun of u for picking a lame pseudonym but if it’s your actual name....

Iwa: you’re one to talk, “alien boii”

Oikawa presses and holds the wow react button over Iwa’s last message.

Alien Boii: R U D E

_Alien Boii set Iwa Hajime’s nickname to “Iwa-chan.”_

Iwa-chan: I did not consent to this

Alien Boii set chat emoji to “alien face.”

Iwa-chan: I regret responding to you in the first place.

Oikawa presses the emoji button and holds, letting the alien face expand until it takes up half the chat window. And then again. And again.

Iwa-chan: this was the worst decision I’ve ever made in my life

Alien Boii: u can change both of those things u know

_Iwa-chan set Alien Boii’s nickname to “asshole.”_

Oikawa hits the sad react.

asshole: come on u can be more original than that iwa-chan

Iwa-chan: nope this is perfect

asshole: ANYWAY, ur japanese?? do u live in japan?

Iwa-chan: yeah, you?

They chat for a while, sharing vague tidbits of information about their lives, and eventually deciding that no personal details are to be revealed to each other, ever.

Iwa-chan: I like the relative anonymity of using an alt account and I want to keep it.

asshole: tbh same

asshole: actually what counts as personal details

Iwa-chan: where exactly you live, occupation, full name obviously, anything that could reveal our irl identity, I guess

asshole: ooh okay that’s fair

asshole: good night, Iwa-chan~!

Iwa-chan: good night, asshole

When Oikawa wakes up that morning, he notices that not only had Iwa-chan not unfriended him, but the nickname and chat emojis have not been changed.

The new Facebook group takes over his internet life, slowly, and then all at once. He changes his settings so he only gets notifications when people he’s friends with post stuff, but that doesn’t help much, because Makki is annoyingly active in WAVaSaS. In addition to many other groups, apparently.

“You should join ‘comic sans kills the man’,” he says, when they meet for lunch in the dining hall a few days later. “It’s for making fun of bad graphic design. It’s hilarious. And then there’s ‘don’t put that on your food,’ for cooking fails, ‘I will trebuchet this man into the sun,’ for men being gross, and a few groups for gay american political stuff I just kind of landed in by accident but now can’t leave because the drama is too good.”

“I actually thought it was an astronomy group, the void and stars one,” Oikawa admits, scrolling through his newsfeed with his left hand while eating with his right. “I didn’t realize it was for making fun of people who say stuff like that.”

“It’s like instead of rolling your eyes at a dumb tumblr post by yourself and moving on with your life, you can share it with thousands of strangers and feel united and validated in your eyerolling,” Makki explains. “And some of this stuff is genuinely creepy and abhorrent. Like, look at this one.” He pulls up a post on his own phone.

A series of screenshots from a chat between a girl and a guy, the guy trying to convince her to leave her boyfriend and date him instead. The first comment, with nearly 300 like and love reacts, is from a Tsukishima Kei, saying “Thanks for showing me this. Because of this post I finally died and that’s all I ever wanted to achieve in this world.”

There’s 5 replies. Oikawa expands them and they all tag group names like “We love you Tsukishima,” “Tsukispotting,” “Welcome, Tsuki,” and “Drop that sweet Tsukishima Kei react here.”

“Who the fuck is Tsukishima Kei and why does he have so many fan groups?” Oikawa asks, clicking on his profile. Also Japanese, also from Miyagi. Makki is a mutual friend. “Do we know him?”

“Remember the glasses kid from Karasuno?”

Oikawa drops his chopsticks. “GLASSES KID? No way. What the fuck.”

“Legit. He’s weirdly popular because he keeps commenting these hilarious things that make great reaction images for other groups. My favorite one is just ‘this sure is some raw shit from fuck mountain.’ I wonder if anyone else from Karasuno knows about this. Imagine... what’s his name, the vice-captain you kept calling Refreshing-kun, seeing his child post things like that.”

“I’d need to see that personally,” Oikawa says. He wonders, briefly, what Iwa-chan would think if he knew that Alien Boii had actually met the great Tsukishima face-to-face more than once. He probably wouldn’t care too much.

Makki puts his chopsticks down and looks at Oikawa. “You know, Refreshing-kun stopped playing after high school, but I still see him when we play his college, cheering on his boyfriend.”

“Cute, but he can do that without me being there.” Oikawa gets up to throw away his trash, but his friend stops him.

“Dude. It’s been two years. I get that it’s painful but you’re missing out and you know it.”

“Choosing to quit and being forced to quit are two very different things,” Oikawa snaps, and leaves the dining hall.

He sits down in the back of the lecture hall and, unable to resist the pull of the blue hellsite, opens Facebook again. His request to join “comic sans kills the man” has been approved and the universe appears to be out to get him specifically, because the first post he sees is an extremely hideous advertisement for volleyball tryouts, posted on a wall somewhere in California, according to the OP’s location tag and description.

He grins in spite of himself, and comments: as a former member of a variety of volleyball clubs, this is embarrassing. dishonor on you, dishonor on your family

He waits for the red notification bubble to pop up. Three likes this time. And then a message from Iwa-chan. They’d reset the nicknames a few days before.

Iwa: you played volleyball?

Alien Boii: yeah but i had to quit due 2 a knee injury in third year

Alien Boii: right before interhigh prelims too </3

Alien Boii: good thing im smart tho! got into university for astrophysics anyway u.u

Iwa: do you still watch volleyball

Alien Boii: i said “astrophysics” not “advertising” do u think i have time to watch volleyball

He thinks guiltily of the calendar in the kitchen, where Makki had marked in the times, dates and locations of all his games in red pen. Then he remembers today’s lunch and feels slightly worse. He really should get over it, he thinks.

Alien Boii: my roommate/friend from hs is on the team here and he keeps trying to get me to go but like

Alien Boii: n a h

Iwa-chan: I guess I get it

Iwa: if I couldn’t play I’d probably avoid it too

He feels an unexpected rush of warmth for this strange boy, and thinks that _yeah, if anyone’d get it, it would be Iwa-chan._

Alien Boii: what position?

Iwa: wing spiker

Alien Boii: I was a setter! Best setter in my prefecture back in middle school but w/e

Iwa: of course you were

Alien Boii: #stayhumble

Iwa: I wonder if we’d ever played against you

Alien Boii: maybe! but why do u think we’re the same age hmmmm

Iwa: idk just a feeling I get

This is getting a little too close to personal details, Oikawa thinks, but he’s also beginning to think he doesn’t really care.

Iwa: I know we said no personal details, but you’re in college rn aren’t you? What year?

Of course we’re on the same wavelength, Oikawa thinks, and then immediately smacks himself on the forehead for letting himself think that.

Alien Boii: second! You?

Iwa: same actually

Iwa: told you I thought we were the same age

Aaaand that’s too much information, time to subtly and naturally change the topic.

Alien Boii: did u get psychic powers from aliens, iwa-chan

Iwa: what the fuck

Alien Boii: HAVE YOU HAD TIES TO ALIENS ALL ALONG

Iwa: why are you like this

_Iwa set Alien Boii’s nickname to “would fuck an alien.”_

would fuck an alien: well you’re not wrong

Someone stabs Oikawa with a pencil, and he yelps.

“Dude,” says the guy next to him. “I know we’re in the back of this lecture hall, but the class is half over and you’ve literally been staring at your phone this whole time.”

 

Later, in “don’t put that on your food,” they get into a vicious argument about whether pineapple belongs on pizza. Twenty comments in, a third person jumps in with “ranch on pizza tho” and introduces them both to a new culinary abomination.

would fuck an alien: do they even sell ranch here? like what even is this thing

Iwa: probably somewhere? Like the fancy groceries

would fuck an alien: wait if u played volleyball in hs did u ever play karasuno

Iwa: a couple of times, why?

would fuck an alien: remember the tall middle blocker with glasses

would fuck an alien: you would’ve played him in third year

Iwa: oh yeah glasses kid he was annoying

Iwa: what about him

would fuck an alien: he’s tsukishima kei

would fuck an alien: of tagging group fame

Iwa: omg

Iwa: I’m actually on the same volleyball team as his old captain sawamura

Iwa: I should tell him it’d be hilarious

would fuck an alien: captain-chan and refreshing-kun! I remember them. I don’t think they like me lmao

would fuck an alien: wait that reminds me

_would fuck an alien set Iwa’s nickname to “Iwa-chan.”_

would fuck an alien: much better

Iwa-chan: it’s kinda funny how we know so many of the same people but have never met

would fuck an alien: yup! wild

 _Please don’t suggest meeting up,_ Oikawa thinks, hoping Iwa-Chan is, in fact, psychic and can read his mind. _Not yet._

But it seems Iwa-chan is thinking about something else.

Iwa-chan: they’re dating btw, sawamura and sugawara

would fuck an alien: I heard! very cute :)

Actually, when Makki told him, Oikawa had whined for a solid half hour about how bitter and single he was, but Iwa-chan did not need to know that.

There’s a lull. Oikawa watches Iwa start typing, stop typing, then start typing again, gray dots blinking in and out of the messenger window.

Iwa-chan: are you gay

Well that’s kind of out of nowhere.  
would fuck an alien: you’ve seen my profile picture yes. what else could this rainbow gradient represent. on a fake profile not tied to my real life identity

would fuck an alien: also the way i keep commenting on WAVaSaS posts with “this would be better if it was gay”

would fuck an alien: yes, Iwa-chan, I’m pretty darn gay

Iwa-chan: I didn’t want to assume!

Iwa-chan: I’m bi, anyway

would fuck an alien: congratulations!

He feels...weirdly relieved. Not like he was hiding the gay thing, not on the fake profile. But it’s nice to be able to say it, just like that.

would fuck an alien: my roommate keeps trying to suck me into the gay discourse fb groups but im not emotionally ready for that level of drama

Iwa-chan: You do not need to go there.

Iwa-chan: there’s literally fb groups dedicated to collecting screencaps of specific people in those groups posting bad opinions and tearing them apart

Iwa-chan: like, come on, guys, facebook isn’t real life, none of this matters

Oikawa stares at the cursor, blinking on and off, and thinks, _does this matter? This conversation here? Are you even real?_

Iwa-chan: ugh I can’t look at this anymore

_Iwa set Alien Boii’s nickname to “nerd.”_

Iwa-chan: I don’t want to be constantly reminded that you would fuck an alien

nerd: still true tho

Oikawa glances at the clock. It was already past midnight, and his problem set was barely half-done. Yikes.

nerd: might as well live up to my name and do this fucking pset lmao

Iwa-chan: have fun

nerd: good night iwa-chan~!

Iwa-chan: gnight

About five minutes after that, his phone vibrates again.

Iwa-chan: wait shit I just realized I basically told you where I go to school

nerd: i solemnly swear not to ask my volleyball friend for a list of everyone on captain-chan’s team

nerd: if you solemnly swear not to ask captain-chan or refreshing-kun who gave them those nicknames

Iwa-chan: fair

The gray dots fade in and out again, and this time, Oikawa thinks he knows what Iwa-chan’s typing.

Iwa-chan: I think

Iwa-chan: we should meet up someday. But not yet

nerd: same yeah

nerd: good night FOR REAL THIS TIME

He flies through the rest of his pset, feeling giddy and energetic, despite the late hour.

 

Yahaba slams his lunch down on the table, looking absolutely murderous.

“Group project again?” asks Hanamaki. “Don’t take it out on the food. Or the table. Or the wall.”

The underclassman puts his head in his hands, looking embarrassed. “This is so dumb, I don’t even know why I care so much, it’s just---ARGH!” He pulls out a bottle of tea and twists the cap off like it was the head of whoever it was that so offended him.

“You’re in that Dog Official Group on Facebook, right?” He says eventually. “There’s five thousand people in there, and the stupid admin doesn’t want to appoint extra mods because he’s ‘got it under control’”- he says with air quotes- “but the group is like 50% weird gross memes by volume and it’s supposed to be nothing but pictures of cute dogs! I signed up for pictures of cute dogs! Just let me be a moderator so I can _increase the level of dog!_ ” He slams his fist down on the table for emphasis. “Ow. It’s okay, it’s my left hand.”

“What happened to the calm and controlled creampuff child we all know and love?” Oikawa asks, smiling.

“ _Kyotani Kentarou happened,_ ” Yahaba snarls, “and someday I will meet him, and I will punch him in his stupid face, and I will take over as admin of DOG and rule the world.”

Oikawa blinks. “Well,” he says, after a moment.  “As long as you have a plan.”

Oikawa: what happened to our son

Makki: OUR son?? Yahaba was always your son my dude

Makki: kunimi was my son

Oikawa: fair

Oikawa: aren’t u even a little concerned abt this tho

Makki: dogs are important

Makki: he knows what’s up

Oikawa: ur the kind of dad who’d let his kid do literally whatever huh

Makki: p much yeah

They’re both in their shared apartment at this time, working on their assignments in separate rooms, messaging when they could easily just shout. It’s how they’ve always studied together. Texts were easier to ignore when you really needed to focus, and easier to be distracted by when you needed a break.

Iwa-chan: is this you

(screenshot: a poorly rendered alien with the text When U Mom Com Home And Make Hte Spagheti attached to it)

Alien Boii: u joke but that was actually my propic on this acct for most of hs

_Iwa set Alien Boii’s nickname to “hte spagheti.”_

hte spagheti: s I G H s

hte spagheti: hey iwa-chan do u know anything abt physics

hte spagheti: like momentum and dynamics n shit

Iwa-chan: I’m actually majoring in physics lol

Iwa-chan: what do you need help with

They work their way through the problem sets, Oikawa feeling slightly guilty that he’s taking advantage of his internet friend like that.

hte spagheti: don’t u have hw u should be working on lmao

Iwa-chan: I’m basically done

hte spagheti: so am I

hte spagheti: thanks Iwa-chan~!

Hanamaki knocks on Oikawa’s door and sticks his head in without waiting for an answer. “How do you feel about a for-fun rec volleyball game with some of the guys from our team plus some of our old high school rivals and their friends slash teammates slash former teammates slash boyfriends?”

Oikawa was going to say no. Oikawa would have said no, in fact, if he hadn’t had a chat window open with Iwa-chan at that exact moment.

“Let me consult with my new internet friend,” he says instead, quickly typing out “my roommate/bff is inviting me to a for-fun volleyball game w/his friends should i go and risk everyone laughing at how much worse i am since i fucked up my knee 4ever or should i skip it and actually finish a pset for once”

Hanamaki jumps onto Oikawa’s bed in one practiced movement and shoves him aside to get to the laptop, which Oikawa barely manages to shut before Makki can read his conversation. “Holy shit, you have an internet friend? Who? What? When? Why? How? What?”

“I ain’t telling you shit, you nosy brat,” Oikawa snaps, hiding his laptop and cellphone under his pillow.

“Tell me or I’ll send your alt accounts to your mother.”

Oikawa freezes.

“Counteroffer,” he says, slightly more composed now, “I go to this game, talk to everyone, play a few sets, and you lay off this subject for now.”

Hanamaki stares at him for a few seconds, then spits on his hand and sticks it out to shake. “Deal.”

“Didn’t I tell you that was unhygenic in our first year of high school?” says Oikawa.

“And every handshake since, yes.”

They seal the deal anyway, and go back to their homework. When the door is securely closed behind him, Oikawa pulls his phone out again to see the newest message from Iwa-chan.

Iwa-chan: psets can wait go have fun

Iwa-chan: you know how to do the problems

Iwa-chan: and idc what you say you definitely miss volleyball

Iwa-chan: plus since it won’t be an official game there won’t be any real pressure to do well

nerd: all very good points! thanks iwa-chan <3

It occurs to Oikawa that, since Makki knows the ex-Karasuno guys, and Iwa plays volleyball with those same guys, chances are high they’ll run into each other tomorrow.

Oikawa decides to deal with this problem the way he deals with everything: by pretending it doesn’t exist until it inevitably blows up in his face.

nerd: what if sugawara and sawamura hate me

Iwa-chan: why tf would they hate you

Iwa-chan: actually never mind I can think of a lot of reasons

nerd: :O :O :O RUDE

Iwa-chan: but like, did you do something or

nerd: are you familiar with kageyama tobio

Iwa-chan: the genius setter kid right

Iwa-chan: took Suga’s spot as starting setter way back when

nerd: he was my kohai in middle school and I was kind of the worst senpai ever

nerd: refused to help him with anything...punched him once...u kno

Iwa-chan: holy shit

Iwa-chan: you’re right, worst senpai ever

nerd: anyway i was a little less awful in high school but still a dick especially towards my opponents in vball

nerd: so like what if they remember all that and hold it against me

nerd: actually having typed all this out I’ve realized this is in fact extremely dumb, those guys are the least likely people to hold grudges out of literally everyone ever involved in volleyball, and I would like you to pretend this entire conversation never happened

Iwa-chan: ok but listen

Iwa-chan: it’s been YEARS

Iwa-chan: you’ve grown, they’ve grown, kageyama’s probably grown too

Iwa-chan: I’m sure everyone involved has achieved enough emotional maturity to move past a few middle-school punching incidents

nerd: I said I punched him ONCE. one time

nerd: but thanks

nerd: that helped

_Iwa set Alien Boii’s nickname to “anxious nerd.”_

_Alien Boii set Iwa’s nickname to “DISGUSTING LIAR.”_

_Alien Boii set his own nickname to “CALM CONFIDENT COOLGUY.”_

CALM CONFIDENT COOLGUY: GOODNIGHT IWA-CHAN

DISGUSTING LIAR: turn that fucking capslock off

DISGUSTING LIAR: good night, anxious nerd

 

Hanamaki pushes him out the door around 10 the following Saturday morning. They meet up with Yahaba, this guy Kuroo, who Oikawa had intro to chem with first semester last year and then never talked to again, and his friend Yaku. All of which are on the volleyball team that Oikawa avoids.

“Kenma’s not coming?” Yahaba asks.

“New video game,” Yaku says, like that explains anything, and everyone but Oikawa nods as if it does. Oikawa feels, not for the first time, slightly left out.

“So, you’re the guy who fucked his knee up after his team got knocked out in prelims,” Kuroo says, with no preamble whatsoever. “Nice to properly meet you. I think we had chem together that one time, but we never really talked then.”

“Yes, that sure is a thing I did,” Oikawa replies, recovering quickly. “At least I’m known for something!” He flashes his trademark peace-sign-and-grin. Kuroo remains completely unfazed by this, locking eyes with Oikawa, lazy grin disappearing. They all stop walking for a minute.

“Why did you overwork yourself when you knew what would happen?” he demands.

Oikawa finds a spot on the ground in front of him and stares at that instead of facing Kuroo. “I guess I just...wanted to punish myself. And went too far. It was stupid.”

Kuroo nods, seemingly satisfied by this. “Yes,” he says. “It was.”

They keep walking in silence, then Makki asks Yahaba for an update on his attempt to take over the DOG Facebook group, and they all listen as Yahaba recounts a series of increasingly angry Facebook messages with the admin of that group. “And the worst part is, I can’t even really hate him for it, because if I ran a huge popular dog group I’d want to have total control over it too, but like he doesn’t even _try_ to use all the power he has as an admin! He rarely ever bans people, never deletes anything, not even the really stupid stuff, and it’s not like I’m the only one complaining about it, everyone’s fed up!”

“Why not make your own group?” Oikawa suggests. “Call it DOG with MORE DOG or something like that, make all your friends moderators, do a better job.”

Yahaba swivels around and glares at him. “That would be admitting defeat,” he declares, and Oikawa rolls his eyes.

Oikawa makes it all the way through the door of the gymnasium before he turns around and says “nope, sorry, bye.” Unfortunately for him, everyone seems to have expected this.

Hanamaki catches him by his right shoulder, Yahaba by his left. Kuroo stands in front of him, effectively blocking the exit.

“We made a deal, loser,” Makki says, pushing him forward. “I understand this is counter to your very nature, but try not to be a brat for like five minutes.”

Oikawa sighs, shakes his head, and plasters on Charming Smile number #17: intimidating but not too frightening, optimal for first impressions.

A tall guy with thick eyebrows and a sleepy expression comes over. “Sup, Makki, Makki’s friends. Matsukawa Issei. I go by Mattsun.”

They shake hands. Oikawa’s phone vibrates.

Makki: I’m gonna date that

Oikawa looks up and asks, “How on earth did you manage to send that without anyone noticing just now. Are you a wizard? A ninja?”

Hanamaki just grins.

Oikawa’s introduced to Akaashi, who stopped playing in college, and Bokuto, who didn’t. He greets Sawamura and Sugawara with Charming Smile #14, more apologetic and kind than #17, and they smile back, polite, but cool.

And then there’s Iwaizumi Hajime. Very faint alarm bells go off in the back of Oikawa’s head as they shake hands, but he’s distracted by the other man’s arms. Which are...very nice, as far as arms go.   _Damn,_ he thinks. Then, _wait, shit, did I say that out loud?_

“Oikawa Tooru,” he says instead, still smiling. “If you say anything containing the phrase ‘that guy that fucked his knee up’ I will fuck up both of your knees in response.”

“Noted,” Iwaizumi responds, looking at Oikawa carefully, head tilted to one side like he’s trying to figure something out. The alarm bells get slightly louder, but before he could do something stupid like call Iwaizumi “Iwa-chan,” the game begins.

It is nothing like the games Oikawa remembers playing in high school. People switch from one team to the other seemingly at random, change the point value whenever they remember it exists, and nobody plays their usual positions for more than a few minutes at a time. Kuroo decides to be a libero for a round before Yaku declares him an embarrassment and kicks him to the front of the court. Everyone is laughing, cracking jokes, and for the first time since the day he started playing, Oikawa realizes that volleyball doesn’t have to be all-consumingly important. That, in the end, it’s really just a game.

He loosens up and sets a few balls for his side of the court-- Makki, Mattsun, Bokuto, Iwaizumi. Watching Iwaizumi spike a ball practically through the floorboards out of the corner of his eye, Oikawa thinks, _if only we were on the same team in high school. We would have been unstoppable._

Iwaizumi looks at him then and grins, as if he knows what Oikawa’s thinking, as if he were thinking the same thing.

After the game, Hanamaki, Matsukawa, Oikawa and Iwaizumi all somehow agree to go get pizza for lunch.

“If any of you order pineapple on your pizza this friendship is annulled,” Oikawa declares, the minute they walk through the door.

Iwaizumi snorts. Oikawa whirls around, but the other man is looking at his phone, and not at him. Rude.

“What’s so funny, Iwaizumi? Are you secretly a pineapple-loving heathen after all?”

Iwaizumi shakes his head. “There’s this Facebook group called ‘don’t put that on your food,’ and literally right when you said that, the hundredth poll asking what people in that group think of pineapple on pizza went up. Talk about coincidence, right?”

Oikawa freezes. It feels like the rest of the world is fading out around him. He could sort of hear Hanamaki asking, “dude, you okay there?” but the only thing running through his head is _holy shit holy shit holy shit it’s really him._

“I have to go,” he says, and runs into the bathroom.

“I’ll order a pineapple pizza for you,” Hanamaki yells after him, but he ignores it.

Hanamaki looks back at the other two with a long-suffering look on his face. “He’s going to text me about whatever his deal is now in three...two...” his phone vibrates. He gestures at it and says, “Ta-da.”

He reads the message and says, “Sorry about him. We’ll be right back.”

He kicks the door open to find his friend sitting under the sink, curled up in a ball. “Oikawa Tooru, what the fuck is your problem?”

“Remember I said I had an internet friend?”

“Yeah?”

“Well...” and in bits and pieces, Oikawa spills the entire story. Hanamaki, like a good friend, doesn’t start laughing until he finishes.

“This is amazing,” he gets out in between laughs. “This is incredible. Please let me post your life story on Reddit, I’ll get gold for this. Holy shit.”

“I didn’t tell you this so you could profit from my pain! I need advice!”

“Dude, just fucking talk to him. If he didn’t somehow put two and two together and know you’re Alien Boii before you ran out like a weirdo, he sure as hell knows now.”

There’s a knock on the bathroom door. “Oikawa?” someone says.

Makki opens the door, sees Iwaizumi, and starts laughing all over again.

“This guy,” he says, gesturing at Oikawa with his thumb, “is a moron. Good luck.” He walks away, still laughing, and Oikawa is finally alone with Iwaizumi.

They stare at each other for a few moments.

“Alien Boy,” Iwaizumi says.

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa says.

There is a pause.

“I have to be honest, I was totally imagining you as a black square with spiker arms this whole time,” Oikawa says, and that seems to break the ice, because the other man laughs and then Oikawa’s laughing too and they’re both giggling helplessly in this tiny pizzeria bathroom at the absurdity of everything they’ve caused for themselves.

“I didn’t expect you to be so short,” Oikawa says, and gets punched in the arm for his troubles. He laughs again, then sobers. “When I told you my friend invited me to a volleyball game...”

“I actually wasn’t going to go at first,” Iwaizumi admitted. “I have a test on Monday, and I didn’t want to stress about meeting you in person in addition to stressing about Thermodynamics, which by the way is a class from hell.”

“Why would you stress about meeting me, an ‘anxious nerd,’” Oikawa says, doing airquotes.

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes and shoves his shoulder, but gently. “I genuinely didn’t know who you were until you introduced yourself to me as the Knee Guy. You weren’t wearing anything with aliens on it, so I still wasn’t really sure. There’s probably more than one former high school setter who had to quit because of a knee injury, right?”

He grins. “But then you went and said all that shit about _pineapple pizza of all things--_ ”

Oikawa pushes him away. “DON’T SPEAK THAT PHRASE IN FRONT OF ME,” he says. “I forgot you had the worst taste in pizza ever for a fleeting, beautiful moment.”

“I don’t love pineapple on pizza, but I don’t hate it either. Forgive me for staying neutral in whatever this is,” Iwaizumi replies.

It’s weird, Oikawa thinks, how the easy, comfortable rhythm they had going in their online conversations translates so well to their conversation in person, but it does. They emerge from the bathroom still arguing, half-seriously, about the worst food item a person could put on pizza.

(Makki and Mattsun’s contributions: cinnamon candy and rice pudding, respectively.)

Lunch turns into a tour of Mattsun and Iwaizumi’s campus, which turns into playing video games in their apartment, which leads to ordering takeout, which ends with Makki and Oikawa finally realizing how late it had gotten and making their way back to their own college hours after dark.

Makki and Mattsun hug while Oikawa and Iwaizumi stand there awkwardly, unsure of the protocol to follow when meeting an internet friend for the first time. At the last minute, Oikawa wraps his arms around Iwaizumi, and whispers, “we should do this again some time.”

His face feels warm, but he decides to ignore that for now, and pulls away quickly.

They walk back in relative silence.

“So...” Hanamaki says, when they’re almost back at their dorm. “He’s your type.”

Oikawa spins around. “I don’t have a type!”

“Arms, Oikawa.”

Oikawa considers it. “You may be right.” They keep walking.

“I barely know the guy,” Oikawa says eventually. “We literally just met for the first time today.”  
“And yet, he’s friends with your Alien Boii profile,” Makki points out. “The version of you that doesn’t have to care about appearances. He knows all your embarrassing secrets already and still talks to you!”  
“Not _all_ my embarrassing secrets, I haven’t told him about the hanger thing,” Oikawa protests. “And anyway, we haven’t talked about you and Matsukawa yet. How’s that going?”

Makki grins. “Workin’ on it,” he says.

“Feelings,” Oikawa says, as he opens the door to their shared suite, “are something that happen to other people about me. I’m not falling for him.”

“That is by far the biggest lie you’ve told me in five years of friendship.”

Oikawa sticks his tongue out at him and shuts his door, then checks Messenger.

Iwa-chan: WAIT I JUST GOT IT

Iwa-chan: Alien bOI

Iwa-chan: OIkawa

Iwa-chan: tell me that was intentional

Alien Boii: .......actually fb didn’t let me put “boy” as my last name so I spelled it weird on purpose

Alien Boii: but that’s a way better explanation and im stealin it

Iwa-chan: disappointing

Iwa-chan: speaking of

Iwa-chan: we met in person

Alien Boii: that we did!

Alien Boii: wait was i disappointing or something

Alien Boii: ????

Iwa-chan: actually no

Iwa-chan: I was expecting a skinny dweeb w/like duct-taped glasses or w/e

Iwa-chan: you don’t look as nerdy as you are over text

Oikawa feels his face heat up as he presses the angry react.

Alien Boii: :O :O so mean iwa-chan

Alien Boii: i have glasses i just h8 wearing them lmao

He hesitates over the keyboard, unsure of how much he wants to give away at this moment, then types “you’re considerably more attractive than a black square with spiker arms.” He looks at it critically, then deletes the “considerably” and sends it with his eyes closed.

Iwa-chan: thanks, I guess?

Iwa-chan: anyway I was wondering if I could add you on my real profile

Alien Boii: of course!

Alien Boii: how many fb friends do you have on there

Alien Boii: i probably have more bc im so popular~

Iwa-chan: I can still cancel the friend request you know

Oikawa switches windows and signs into his real profile, accepting Iwaizumi Hajime’s friend request. “Not anymore you can’t!”

“While we’re at it, might as well post some pictures from the game today,” he says to himself. “Mom’ll be happy to see me playing again...”

The next morning Oikawa and Hanamaki are woken up by a persistent knocking on their door, at the unholy hour of 8:30 a.m.

“Literally what the fuck,” Hanamaki groans, “it’s a Sunday. This should be illegal.”

Oikawa staggers to the door and pulls it open. “Whoever you are we don’t want-- oh! Yahaba!”

Yahaba freezes mid-knock and smiles, unfairly cheerful for such an early time of day. “We’re going to the animal shelter today!”

“We are?”

“We’re going to pet the dogs! And take cute pictures for the dog group I will take over! And be helpful! And get good press for the volleyball team!”

“I’m not on the volleyball team...”

“Me and Makki, I meant.”

Oikawa is still struggling to form coherent thoughts. “Why so early?” he manages.

“Because!”

“Did you forget we’re your senpais and you should treat us with more respect?” Makki yells, having wandered into the kitchen to make breakfast while the other two were talking at the door.

“You’re more likely to listen to me when you’re caught off-guard,” Yahaba explains. He beams, rather like a salesperson who just sold all their stock to one bewildered buyer.

“You are a devious and evil child,” Oikawa yawns. “Do you want some toast?”

When they get to the animal shelter, Oikawa has his phone out and camera on to take pictures of the cute dogs and cats. He wasn’t expecting, however, for Yahaba to drop his own phone and scream “YOU?!” at the guy working there.

The guy with eyeliner and a strange dye job whose nametag read “Kyoutani Kentarou.”

Oikawa and Hanamaki both hit record on their phones, zoom in on the nametag and then on both Kyoutani and Yahaba’s faces.

“...yes? Can I help you?” Kyoutani says, utterly perplexed.

“YOU RUN THE DOG GROUP!” Yahaba shouts. (“This is fine art,” Makki whispers reverently.)

A flicker of recognition appears in Kyoutani’s eyes, but he just glares. “So? What’s it to you? And keep it down, you don’t want to scare the animals,” the other guy snaps.

“I’M THE GUY WHO’S BEEN MESSAGING YOU ASKING TO BE A MOD FOR THE PAST TWO WEEKS!”

Kyoutani’s eyes widen. “I said keep it down!” They’re drawing attention, and Yahaba seems to get ahold of himself and quiets. Slightly.

“So why won’t you appoint any mods to your disaster of a group?”

Kyoutani looks to the side, and says,“Can we talk about this later? My shift ends at noon, and the dogs don’t deserve this negative energy right now.” (“did you get that,” Oikawa whispers. “Please tell me you got that.”)

(“uploading to DOG as we speak. Added an English translation in the description and everything,” Makki responds.)

Yahaba nods tersely. “Sure. Anyway. My friends and I are here to help out with the adoption event today, I emailed you a few days ago to confirm...?”

Kyoutani points to a smiling young woman holding a puppy and talking to its prospective owners. “You’ll have to talk to Akina-san,” he says, and everyone seems to exhale as Yahaba finally turns away.

“It’s too bad most of the Americans are still asleep right now,” Oikawa says, looking over Makki’s shoulder as the post gains likes, comments and reacts at an impressive pace. “‘The dogs don’t deserve this negative energy right now’ should become this group’s description, profile picture and cover photo.”

“Is it just me or is there some sexual tension going on there?” Makki asks, and Oikawa shoves him.

Akina-san assigns each of them something to do. Oikawa volunteers to talk to potential adopters about the process. He’s always been good at that, he thinks, and he likes talking about cute dogs and cats.

The minute he has a break though, he messages Iwaizumi.

Alien Boii: IWA-CHAN CHECK THE DOG GROUP

Iwa: what

Iwa: wHAT

Iwa: lol I haven’t talked to Kyoutani since high school but he was in volleyball w/me

Iwa: what are the odds

Alien Boii: WHY DOES EVERONe PLAY VOLLEYBSLL

Iwa: because it’s fun??

Alien Boii: brb petting dogs

He only manages to pet one dog before his phone buzzes again.  
“Iwa-chan, you really need to look up the meaning of ‘brb,’” he says softly, smiling at his phone anyway.

Iwa: are you at the Happy Homes shelter

Alien Boii: i think so? I was half asleep until the yelling started so didn’t pay attention

Iwa: lmao

Iwa: I can meet you there in like 15 mins?

Iwa: if you want?

Oikawa’s heart skips a beat, a fact that he will deny until his dying breath.

Alien Boii: !!! ofc!!! Bring Mattsun too Makki’ll be happy

Iwa: are they like a Thing

Alien Boii: pretty much

Alien Boii: not Official(TM) yet tho

Iwa: he’s in, see you soon

“Iwaizumi and Matsukawa are coming too,” Oikawa tells his friends.

“Iwaizumi Hajime?” Kyoutani says, turning around sharply. “You know him?”

“Yeah, what’s it to you?” Yahaba snaps immediately, and Makki punches him and says, “yeah, we’re volleyball rivals.”

Kyoutani nods. “He beat me in arm-wrestling. And running. And baseball. And some other stuff. In high school.”

He picks up a bag of dry cat food and starts refilling bowls, before adding “I played volleyball too.”

Oikawa leans over and whispers to Hanamaki, “are we adopting this one?”

“Student housing doesn’t allow pets,” Makki replies.

“I mean the kid. Kyouken-chan has a good ring to it, don’t you think?”

“Oikawa, you’re a terrible father.”

The bell over the door rings, and they all look up. “What’s this about Oikawa being a terrible father?” Iwaizumi asks. “Because whatever the context is, I agree.”

Oikawa jumps up and does his best to look insulted, but he can’t quite hide the pleased smile on his face. “Iwa-chan, you can’t just walk in here and insult me in front of the animals! They _don’t deserve this negative energy, Iwa-chan!_ ” but he’s laughing, and everyone else starts laughing too.

The...seven of them, counting Kyoutani and Akina-san, spend the day talking to potential animal owners, cleaning, feeding, watering, and of course, petting the dogs. There are a lot of dogs, and all of them need to be petted. The Dog Official Group, to Yahaba’s delight, fills up with pictures and videos of them. Oikawa tweets about it, and some girls from his econ class come by and end up donating some money to the shelter.

“Hey Iwa-chan, this one looks like you,” Oikawa says, pointing at a pitbull.

“That’s not an insult, Shittykawa, pitbulls are gentle and majestic creatures and anyone would be lucky to have one,” Iwaizumi replies, coming over and punctuating his statements by petting the dog.

“Roasted,” Mattsun calls, and high-fives Iwaizumi.

All in all, it was a pretty successful morning, by anyone’s standards.

Kyoutani and Yahaba split off to “negotiate the future of the D.O.G,” according to Yahaba. (“200 yen on them hooking up,” Makki fake-whispers. Oikawa doesn’t take him up on it.) The rest of them get lunch together, again. They go to a noodle shop this time, sitting in a row at the counter, and Oikawa discovers Iwaizumi doesn’t like bean sprouts.

“Who doesn’t like bean sprouts? They’re a culinary staple!” Oikawa says.

“Will you ever stop criticizing my food opinions or is this just how it’s always going to be?” Iwaizumi asks. He looks Oikawa right in the eyes and Oikawa feels his stomach drop into his feet. Rude.

He decides to overlook the “always” part of it and says lightly, “You’re entitled to your wrong opinions, and I am entitled to judging them.”

Iwaizumi flicks a piece of seaweed at him. “Stop that.”

Oikawa sticks his tongue out at him, like a mature adult. They continue eating in silence.

“I really need to stop letting you guys talk me into going out. I have three exams next week. I should become a hermit,” Matsukawa says. “Deactivate my Facebook and everything.”

“But if you deactivate now, how will you know what sweet, sweet tagging group drama’s going down?” Hanamaki asks.

“You’ll tell me,” Matsukawa says, as if stating an obvious fact.

Makki nods. “True.”

“I still don’t really get the point of We’re All Void and Stars and Shit, though,” Oikawa says, twirling his noodles around. “Like, do they just make fun of anything even remotely romantic or what?”

“It’s more like over-the-top metaphors, purple prose, anything that tries to make people and their feelings seem bigger and more important than they really are,” Iwaizumi explains.

“So like, literally any poem or song about romance or relationships, ever? That’s lame. You have no romance in your soul.” Oikawa scoots his chair slightly closer to Iwaizumi’s. Just an inch. “What if I told you you were made of outer space?”

“I’d punch you, because that’s dumb,” Iwaizumi says, but Oikawa glances sideways and, yup, he’s blushing. Score.

Oikawa’s phone buzzes, and he instinctively picks it up and tilts it away from Iwaizumi.

Makki: what’s that you said about not falling for him

Makki: Literally One Day Later

Oikawa looks up and glares at his friend.

Oikawa: shut your fuck

Oikawa: flirting is a defense mechanism

Makki: BULLSHIT

Oikawa sees Makki slide his phone over to Matsukawa, who glances back at the former setter, completely unimpressed.

Makki: Mattsun agrees w/me

“I CAN SEE THAT,” Oikawa says, and the other two snicker. Jerks.

“Am I missing something, or...?” Iwaizumi asks, looking back and forth with an expression of utter confusion.

“Nothing,” Oikawa singsongs.

Matsukawa claps his hands. “Subject change: have you seen what’s going down in Lettuce Gay Bacon Tomato? Or actually what’s going down around it. The admins of LGBT got into a fight with the admins in some other big tagging groups so a bunch of people are getting banned from Comic Sans, Void and Stars, and other groups just for being active in Gay Tomatoes.”

“Why do these people care so much. It’s Facebook. Just go outside,” Iwaizumi says.

“I think it’s like, being the moderator responsible for the actions of thousands of people inflates people’s egos,” Hanamaki says. “They think they’re more important than they really are.”

Iwaizumi looks at Oikawa with an extremely unimpressed face. “Please never become a moderator or admin of a tagging group,” he says, deadpan.

“It’s not ego if I really _am_ smarter and prettier than everyone around me!” Oikawa squawks, and everyone laughs.

Matsukawa stands. “Anyway, like I said, three exams next week, need to study, etcetera. Thanks for inviting us out. Iwaizumi?”

Iwaizumi stands too, then, and looks at Oikawa like he’s a puzzle he wants to solve. “This was fun,” he says, after a pause. “But I also have exams next week, so. Yeah.”

“I’ll message you, alien boy,” he says as he leaves, waving. Oikawa can hear his heart thundering in his ears.

“Fuck,” he whispers.

 

Hanamaki: so did ya bang him

Yahaba: ??? WHAT THE FUCK HANAMAKI

Hanamaki: y/n

Yahaba: ...

Yahaba: we made out

Hanamaki: KNEW IT

Yahaba: no you said sex

Hanamaki: CLOSE ENOUGH

Yahaba: and he’s going to give me co-admin powers and appoint 4 other mods in D.O.G!

Hanamaki: !!! nice!

Hanamaki: look at u seducin ppl to get ur way

Hanamaki: my little nephew’s growing up

Yahaba: nephew???

Hanamaki: yeah Oikawa’s your vball dad I’m his vball bro you’re my nephew now

Yahaba: why did I respond to this message...

Hanamaki: why indeed ;) ;)

Hanamaki: anyway, proud of u

Yahaba: I’ll block you

Hanamaki’s flopped over on the couch, flipping through the TV channels with a textbook out to simulate studying. Oikawa’s at the kitchen table, doing much the same thing. There’s a new book recommendations thread in We’re All Void and Stars and Shit, and lots of people are fighting about various American authors Oikawa’s never heard of.

“Hey, Oikawa, do you know what Yahaba’s up to right now?” Makki asks.

“Fucking Kyouken-chan?”

“Close.” Oikawa walks over to the couch to look at his friend’s phone.

He laughs. “That’s my son.”

Makki takes the phone back and keeps scrolling. “Dude, have you even gotten laid since Ushiwaka?”

“WE AGREED NEVER TO SPEAK OF THAT AGAIN. It was one time, we were both extremely wasted, and it was an extremely bad decision all around.”  


“He got you a cactus.”

“Shut up.” Oikawa taps out a message to Iwaizumi with one hand while copying formulas with the other, hating how his heartbeat speeds up just upon seeing Iwa-chan’s name. Very inconvenient.

Oikawa: Makki’s bullying me :( :(

Iwaizumi: good

Oikawa huffs out an irritated breath, then pulls open his chat with Makki.

Oikawa: now Iwa-chan’s bullying me :( :( :(

Makki: good

“Why are you all so mean to me, oh my god.”

“Did you tell him you slept with Ushiwaka?” Makki asks.

Oikawa throws an eraser at him, but misses. “I WOULD NEVER.”

They work in silence for a while. Then, Makki says, “Oikawa...do you have any friends besides the old volleyball team?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Oikawa squawks. “I have 500 friends on my real Facebook account. And I go to at least one party per semester. And sometimes I get lunch with people in my classes. ”

“Not anyone specific, though,” Makki points out. “Just, ‘people.’”

Oikawa walks over to where Makki’s sitting on the couch and crashes down next to him, tired of shouting across the small space. “So what? Contrary to popular belief, I don’t need an army of admirers to survive.”

“I dunno,” Hanamaki says. “You haven’t been...lonely or anything, have you?”

He was popular, in high school. Girls kept trying to make lunch for him, confess to him. He never said yes, but he rarely gave anyone a hard no, either. He had his volleyball team around him almost all the time, like a bubble of support, people to go out and get food with or go to the movies with.

Then he stopped playing volleyball, and it felt, for a while, like his entire way of life had screeched to a halt.

Was he lonely? Is he lonely now? The thing that connected him to everyone he knew and loved was gone. For a while, he’d been avoiding hanging out with anyone and anything that reminded him of volleyball.

Oikawa stares at the ceiling, then back down to his phone, which vibrates. People like his comments in the various tagging groups. People respond to those comments. Artificial connection.

Iwaizumi’s messaging him.

Iwaizumi: are you actually doing homework now

Iwaizumi: alert the presses, oikawa tooru finishing a pset on a sunday

Iwaizumi: ...I still think of you as alien boy tbh even tho I know that’s not your name and this is your real fb acct

_Iwaizumi set Oikawa’s nickname to “Alien boy.”_

Oikawa grins and sets the chat emoji to an alien face.

Alien boy: hi iwa-chan! yes for ur information I WAS doing hw and also getting psychoanalyzed by hanamaki :///

“I’m glad you met Iwaizumi,” Makki’s saying now. “And that you tried playing again. I think branching out will be good for you.”

“Maybe,” Oikawa says, voice as neutral as possible. His phone buzzes.

Iwaizumi: do you wanna talk about it or

Alien boy: n a h

Iwaizumi: meanwhile, I had to look at this with my own two eyes and now so do you <https://www.facebook.com/dobbythefreeelfxx/videos/1343627079077832/>

Oikawa screams, and then starts laughing, relieved at the distraction and horrified by what it actually was.

“OH MY GOD, MAKKI, LOOK AT THIS SHIT IWA-CHAN JUST LINKED ME TO.”

It’s a video of Voldemort, Snape and Dumbledore’s faces photoshopped onto some k-pop dancers, to a tinny remix of what sounds like the Harry Potter theme. It is, without a doubt, the single worst thing Oikawa has ever seen on the internet.

Alien boy: this is, without a doubt, the single worst thing I have ever seen on the internet.

Alien boy: nothing can possibly top this. congratulations

Alien boy: have u done YOUR hw yet iwa-chan

_Oikawa Tooru set Iwaizumi’s nickname to “Iwa-chan.”_

Iwa-chan: I can’t I’ve been permanently scarred by this fucking video

“How are things with _Iwa-chan,_ Oikawa?” Makki asks, smirking horribly. Oikawa shoves him.

“There are no things. We’re friends who send each other life-ruining videos. That’s it. I don’t have time to date and Iwa-chan definitely doesn’t have time to date what with volleyball and physics and everything...”

“You have plenty of time to start arguments with American strangers on Facebook, though,” Makki points out. “He asked me about you yesterday. Oikawa, I say this as your best bro: he definitely likes you back, go ask him out.”

Oikawa puts his head in his hands. “God. I haven’t dated anyone since...Ushiwaka doesn’t count... neither does the girl from the pre-gay awakening days...”

“That’s really sad, dude. Meanwhile, check this out!” Makki pulls up his profile on his phone: he blocked all his relatives on Facebook and tells them he doesn’t have a Facebook account, then posts whatever he wants from his real name. Currently, the latest update to his profile is a relationship status change: In a Relationship with Matsukawa Issei.

“Nice!” Oikawa high-fives him. “When did that happen?”

“I kissed him when we were about to leave the noodle place and then we talked about it and now here we are. Do you see how easy that was. It was so easy.” Hanamaki jabs the status update with his finger. “THIS COULD BE YOU. With Iwaizumi I mean.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Oikawa scrolls up through his message history, wondering if maybe Makki was right, maybe Iwaizumi did like him too. “I’ll think about it, I guess.”

Alien boy: did u see makki and matsun finally got together!

Iwa-chan: good for them

“Anyway, I hate myself,” Oikawa mutters, and sends “do u like anyone” before he could change his mind.

Iwa-chan: eh, I don’t like to talk about that sort of thing

“UGH.” Oikawa throws his phone onto the coffee table. Makki looks at the screen and laughs. Jerk.

“I’m sorry, bro. What did you want him to say?”

Iwa-chan: you?

Alien boy: if u ain’t tellin i ain’t tellin :P :P :P

Iwa-chan: that’s fair I guess

Iwa-chan: go finish your hw

Oikawa sighs and goes back to the kitchen table. He really is almost done.

A photo, in We’re All Void and Stars and Shit, of a page from a book, the relevant section highlighted. Caption: But if we’re all stars and you didn’t know there were this many stars then who’s flying the plane?  
The quote reads: “I never knew there were this many stars.”

“I can’t see them,” he told me. His breath was warm on my neck, and he kissed the soft skin at the base of my hair. “I only see you.”

Hanamaki Matsukawa commented two hours ago: need me a freak like that (5 likes)

Matsukawa Issei replied: ;) (10 likes)

Alien Boii: romance is dead

Oikawa’s sitting in his usual spot at the back of the lecture hall in physics the next day, laptop out so he could take notes, Facebook open because he has no self-control, when Kuroo slides in next to him and says, “Sup.”

“Since when are you in this class, Kuro-chan?” Oikawa asks, still scrolling through the latest posts in If Fedoras Had Arms (a group dedicated to sharing screenshots of men on the internet being terrible in a specific way)

“Since the start of the semester. I just sit near the front usually. Hey, Fedora Arms. That’s a funny one.” Kuroo leans too far into Oikawa’s personal space to look at the posts, and Oikawa, for some unearthly reason, lets him get away with it this time.

“So like...why are you sitting here now?”

“Did you get the prof’s email yesterday? Partner project. You seem like someone who’d pull your weight.”

Oikawa turns his laptop so the screen is out of Kuroo’s reach, and smiles. “You’re in luck, Kuro-chan! I’m a great partner for projects.” _And I probably would’ve ended up working with a random stranger if you hadn’t asked me, so..._

They exchange contact info and Kuroo’s phone vibrates. Kuroo flicks the screen on and absolutely lights up at whatever’s on it.

“Tsukki made a new comment in Fedora Arms!” he exclaims, passing the phone to Oikawa so he could have a look. It wasn’t an especially funny comment or anything, but Tsukishima’s reputation seemed to precede him.

“Tsukki? Karasuno glasses kid? Do you know him or something?”

“Know him? I taught him everything he knows about blocking. We had training camp with their school back in the day. Still chat sometimes. Or rather, I message him and he ignores me for three days, tells me to fuck off, then replies to all my questions at 3 am on a Saturday in long paragraphs. It’s just how it is.”

Oikawa hadn’t known Kuroo for very long, but he sees the smile on the other guy’s face is different from the one he was wearing earlier--shyer, but warmer, somehow.

“Sounds like you’re a little bit in love with Tsukishima, if you ask me,” he says, and something in Kuroo’s face closes, like a wall sliding down behind his eyes.

“Nah,” he says, the single syllable heavy and final as a tombstone, and Oikawa knows he’s overstepped.

“I’m sorry,” he says. Kuroo just sighs. Then he perks up. “Speak of the devil, Tsukki just messaged me! ”

Tsukishima: I got into your university

Kuroo: !!!! COJNGRATS

Kuroo: proud of you n_n

Tsukishima: pls never use that emoji again  
Tsukishima: but thanks  
Kuroo: ITS MY EMOJI I DO AHAT I WABT  
Kuroo: yw

Kuroo: so u gonna go here or

Tsukishima: I’m still waiting to hear back from a few places

Tsukishima: I’ll let you know

Kuroo: kk

“Congrats,” Oikawa says, seeing how happy Kuroo is. Immediately, the other boy stiffens, shakes his head slightly, and puts his phone away. The professor’s writing something on the board, and Kuroo squints at it.

“I forgot I need glasses to read things from this distance,” he says, “because I usually sit close enough to the front that I don’t need them, but now I’m suffering.”

Oikawa makes shooing motions at him. “Go sit where you can get your education, Kuro-chan. I’m fine here, because I remembered to wear glasses today, unlike some people.”

Kuroo goes up front, and class...happens. It’s not bad. He doesn’t hate physics, exactly, he just can’t really care about the trajectory of a speeding bullet when there’s space and nebulas and aliens out there to care about instead.

Nerd: iwa-chan can u come here and take my physics class 4 me

Iwa-chan: no

Nerd: :’(

Iwa-chan: you’ll live

Nerd: :’(

He waits a minute, but no reply comes.

Nerd: :’(

Nerd: :’(

Nerd: :’(

Iwa-chan: I’m in class shut your fuck

Nerd: same, but like i reeeeally do not want to be

He looks at the board. He looks at his notes, which seem to be a lot less informative than they really should be. He looks at the board again, and takes a picture of it with his phone, feeling slightly proud of himself for using technology to his advantage.

Someone replied to his comment in Fedora Arms. He’d accidentally started a long argument about the merits of anime and which anime counted as Fedora-y and forgot to turn off  notifications. The group had a policy against deleting comments, which was kind of a pain. But it looks like Iwaizumi decided to add his two cents to the end of the 50-reply thread.

Iwa Hajime: can we all agree that grown-ass men who like love live are creepy as fuck (8 likes)

Matsukawa Issei: @ me next time iwa-chan (a laugh react)

Iwa Hajime: dude don’t call me that we’re not 5 anymore

Oikawa feels heat rise to his cheeks, because Iwaizumi hadn’t told him off when Oikawa called him Iwa-chan the first time, and then continued to call him Iwa-chan. Does that make Oikawa special? Or, does that mean Iwaizumi just doesn’t actually care? He doesn’t really know, but he hates not knowing.

When the class ends, he casually lingers so that when Kuroo walks by, he can ask, “do you have plans for lunch?” He knows Hanamaki is in class at this time, and usually gets something quick off campus on his way back to the dorms by himself. But the things Makki said about loneliness yesterday stuck in his head like an annoying pop song, and he wants to make it stop.

Kuroo startles, clearly not expecting this, but recovers quickly. “I usually eat with the volleyball team around now. You already know most of them, I’m guessing, so you can totally join us...”

He thinks of years of volleyball team lunches in middle and high school, of how warm it felt to be surrounded by a team, and says, “Sounds great! Hanamaki thinks I need more friends.” He punctuates it with an eyeroll and Charming Smile #4: self-deprecating, but still charming.

“Well, we’re friends on Facebook already, right? That’s like 3/4 of the way to a real friendship,” Kuroo says.

“I actually have a second account,” Oikawa replies. “Alien Boii. It’s the one I use in those groups.”

“Oh, smart. Add me on that too, I’ll send you all the dank memes,” and they walk to the dining hall still chatting about their alternate Facebook lives.

“Cat Facts is better than D.O.G, and that’s, well, a fact,” Yaku is explaining to Yahaba when the two of them make their way to the table.

Yahaba grins, looking extremely smug as he unwraps his unnecessarily adorable bento.“I’m not even going to dignify that with a response, because I’ve been made co-admin and am therefore untouchable.”

“Except by Kyouken-chan,” Oikawa cuts in, and exchanges high-fives with everyone on their side of the table. _Hacker voice: I’m in,_ he thinks, and then immediately hates himself for thinking that.

It’s fun.

Oikawa doesn’t know what earthly forced possessed him for the twenty-minute walk from his dorm to the volleyball gym, but somehow, he ends up there, with a volleyball, and practices his serves, late that night. Not too much. Not too hard. Just enough to remind him that, _oh yeah, this was a thing that I loved. Love. Present tense._

Alien boy: hey iwa-chan did u ever wonder what u would do if you couldnt play volleyball or study physics

Iwa-chan: teach I guess

Iwa-chan: I don’t hate children but I’d def rather do my own research

Iwa-chan: and I was never going to go pro for volleyball like I’m not bokuto or anything

Iwa-chan: idk never really thought abt it

Iwa-chan: why do you ask?

Alien boy: just thinking

Alien boy: back in hs i always thought i was gonna go pro

Alien boy: or coach bc i did volunteer w/the lil kids team on weekends

Alien boy: and then i Fucked Up My Knee (TM) and it was all just

Alien boy: ~gone~

Alien boy: but i like astrophysics so its okay!!

Alien boy: mostly void, partially stars, etc

Iwa-chan, he thinks, isn’t made of outer space at all. He’s solid earth, through and through, dependable and consistent and always there, just a message away. Oikawa feels self-conscious all of a sudden, and looks at the time. 1:53 AM. Whoops.

Alien boy: oh shit i just looked at the time lmao sorry if i woke u up!!

Iwa-chan: nah I was already pulling an all-nighter for this lab

Iwa-chan: this is the third one in as many weeks

Iwa-chan: I may need to work on my time management skills

_Oikawa set Iwaizumi’s nickname to “Sleep-deprived nerd”._

Sleep-deprived nerd: depressingly accurate

Sleep-deprived nerd: some kids in my class are throwing a party the night after we hand this in to celebrate and it’s like

Sleep-deprived nerd: where do you get this energy???

Sleep-deprived nerd: I’m submitting this and then sleeping unti lthe semester ends

Alien boy: how much more work do you have to do omg

Sleep-deprived nerd: I’m actually almost done

Alien boy: GOOD LUCK IWA-CHAN

Alien boy: U CAN DO THIS!

Sleep-deprived: thanks shittykawa

Alien boy: wtf

Alien boy: i try 2 b nice and this is what i get for my efforts

_Iwaizumi set Oikawa’s nickname to “Shittykawa.”_

Shittykawa: >:O

Shittykawa: good NIGHT!

Sleep-deprived nerd: gnight

 

Working with Kuroo is...interesting. Oikawa doesn’t know what he expected, from a guy whose hair looks like that with apparently zero effort on his part, but Kuroo has a color-coded planner and breaks down every aspect of the assignment into step-by-step parts and tells Oikawa exactly what he’s supposed to do and when he’s supposed to do it by. Which, well, Oikawa’s the same way, but most of the people he meets who work so methodically tend to be very small and quiet girls. Not...Kuroo.

“So tell me about your crush,” Kuroo says, the first day they get together in the library to work on their powerpoint. He’s typing the introduction to their essay at the same time as he’s grilling Oikawa about his life choices. It’s slightly impressive.

“What?” Oikawa squawks. “What does that have to do with electromagnetism?”

“I could make a joke about sexual magnetism or something here, but really, I’m just bored and curious.” He’s still typing, and Oikawa takes out his own notes and starts working on his half.

“You tell me about yours first,” Oikawa challenges, and Kuroo changes the topic to tagging group drama instead.

“Are you in the Thunderdome?”

“What the fuck’s a thunderdome?”

Kuroo laughs. “It’s a place where people post controversial opinions and then fight about it, except the moderators are notoriously lenient on letting neo-nazis and racist people stay in it, so a lot of people don’t like the group very much. It got archived last week, and then a bunch of people made spin-off versions of it with different moderators and rules, then the biggest one of those spin-off groups imploded because it turns out the admin of it was actually a police officer from Texas, then the original group was unarchived and now that’s the one everyone posts in again, except now I’m a moderator and it’s. So wild.”

“Sounds wild,” Oikawa says.

“You know Akaashi? Bokuto’s...actually I don’t know if they’re dating or not, ambiguously platonic life partner is probably the best way to put it, anyway, he was a mod in one of the spin-off thunderdomes, and he says the mod chat just collects screenshots of people talking shit about the mods in other groups and then bans anyone who likes those posts. He quit that group. I think he’s a mod in Void and Stars now.”

“Good for him. I like that group.”

They work in silence for a while, then Oikawa says, “have you ever thought about how little material impact those Facebook groups have on real life?”

Kuroo laughs. “Little? How did you meet Iwaizumi again?”

“I would’ve met him eventually, since we have all the same friends and his roommate’s dating my roommate now,” Oikawa protests, but he knows Kuroo has a point. It’s so much easier to start a conversation with someone you like when there’s a totally unrelated thing to talk about.

“Half my conversations with Tsukishima are him ranting about how much he hates some new reprehensible post in Fedora Arms. He tries so hard to look like he never cares about anything, but really, he cares so much, about everything, all the time.” He pauses, and then hits the keyboard again with slightly more force than necessary. “It’s just that he cares about how he comes across to other people the most.”

Oikawa doesn’t press further, and they keep working on their project.

A few days later, Oikawa gets a message from Iwaizumi at lunch, which isn’t very unusual anymore. They talk almost every day, sometimes several times a day, about everything and anything. He opens up the conversation with one hand, eating with the other, while his friends talk around him. He’s sitting with Hanamaki and Yahaba and Kuroo today, and it feels a lot like lunches in high school with his volleyball teammates. Except this time he’s not on the volleyball team, and instead of the roof they’re eating in the dining hall, but those are details.

Iwa-chan: we’re playing your school on Friday

Oikawa freezes, chopsticks halfway to his mouth. He still hasn’t been to any of his school’s games, and Hanamaki’s all but given up on pressuring him to go. He elbows Makki now. “Where’s your game on Friday?”

“Huh? Oh, it’s at home. 5 pm. Are you...actually going to come?” He looks at Oikawa’s phone, and smirks. “Ohhhh,” he says, and Oikawa elbows him again, harder this time.

“I’ll cheer for you guys, I promise.”

“Right,” Hanamaki says, unconvinced. “Anyway, have you hit that yet?”

Oikawa scowls into his rice. “Workin’ on it.”

“Okay, but I know you, Oikawa, and I know that the chances of you actually doing anything close to making a move on a guy decrease exponentially the more you like said guy. You haven’t said anything, have you?”

“Maybe not,” Oikawa replies, still staring at the table.

“That’s really sad,” Yahaba contributes, from the other end of the table, and Oikawa throws a roll at him.

“Just because you got a muscley spiker boyfriend before me doesn’t make you some kind of relationship expert, Yahaba- _chan_!”

Yahaba laughs.

Kuroo looks thoughtful, and Oikawa instinctively braces himself. The last time Kuroo had that look he had suggested Oikawa rewrite his entire section of the essay from scratch. “Hey, you guys know Bokuto, right? He’s throwing a party Saturday night.”

“Yes?”

“And Iwaizumi’s going to be there, because they’re teammates and friends and I’ll ask him to be there specifically.”

“Really.” Oikawa tries to squash the smile that’s spreading on his face. He doesn’t go out much, lately, having spent way too much time hungover his first year of college, but it’d be nice to go out, relax, and maybe see Iwa-chan again.

Kuroo smirks. “I’ll message you the address.”

Oikawa looks at his phone and realizes he hadn’t responded to Iwaizumi’s message, even though he’d read it almost fifteen minutes ago.

Shittykawa: sorry @ lunch

Shittykawa: will probably make it! peer pressure is a powerful force

Shittykawa: u goin to bokuto’s party sat?

Iwa-chan: maybe for a little while idk

Shittykawa: nope you are going bc i am going and i want to see you!!

He hits enter before he could decide if that was too much. It was probably too much.

Iwa-chan: ok so I’ll stay in then got it

Shittykawa: >:C

Iwa-chan: you’ll see me at the game

Shittykawa: yeah but you’ll be all tired and sweaty and if we beat u (which we will) probably sad too

Iwa-chan: that’s basically my default state but ok

Iwa-chan: also, you’re going down

Iwa-chan: I have so much work to do but fine I’ll try to make it

Shittykawa: c:

Iwa-chan: why can’t you use the normal emojis

Shittykawa: c: is cuter than ( :

Iwa-chan: it looks weird

Shittykawa: c: c: c:

Shittykawa: c:< C:<

Iwa-chan: why can’t you stick with kaomojis like a normal japanese young adult

Shittykawa: too much effort

Shittykawa: you don’t use kaomojis either

Shittykawa: but then again you are a dad trapped in a 20-year-old’s body so that makes perfect sense

Iwa-chan: I’M a dad? Who consistently refers to Yahaba as his “son” and tried to adopt Kyoutani?

_Iwaizumi set Oikawa’s nickname to “The Real Dad”._

The Real Dad: yeah but i don’t live the dad ~lifestyle and aesthetic~

_Oikawa set Iwaizumi’s nickname to “Dad Squared.”_

Dad Squared: what does that even mean

Oikawa’s alarm rings, letting him know it’s time for him to go to his next class.

The Real Dad: oop g2g ttyl!!

Dad Squared: bye

 

So that’s how Oikawa finds himself in the front row of the bleachers next to the elusive Kenma, who has apparently been Kuroo’s best friend since childhood, but Oikawa’s never met him before even though Kuroo has talked about him before. Kenma is playing a video game.

“I feel like we should have met earlier,” Oikawa says, and Kenma makes a “hmph” sound at his video game.

“I don’t get out much,” Kenma says, and that’s all the conversation Oikawa gets for the time being. Oikawa waves at his friends on the court instead.

Hanamaki turns and does some finger guns in Oikawa’s general direction, and Oikawa pretends to swoon. He locks eyes with Iwaizumi on the other side of the court, and Iwaizumi lights up, a genuine smile flitting across his face for half a second before he rolls his eyes at Oikawa’s exuberant waving. Somehow, that instantly makes Oikawa feel okay, like he’s where he’s supposed to be.

Iwaizumi’s not a starter, but he gets switched in after the first set. Oikawa had seen him play before, at their for-fun game the previous weekend, but here, in a real game, where he was really trying, Iwaizumi’s... incredible, really. Powerful, accurate.  

Oikawa wants to set for him.

Iwaizumi’s team wins, after three close sets. Oikawa jumps over the edge of the bleachers, careful not to land too hard on his injured knee, and goes over there to congratulate and commiserate.

“Look who finally showed up to a game,” Hanamaki says, pulling out his phone and taking a picture of Oikawa walking up to the court. “Documenting for posterity.”

“You guys did great.” Oikawa says, ignoring him. “Their spikers were just stronger, and there’s nothing you can really do about that. Makki, you’ve really improved since high school.”

Makki punches him on the shoulder good-naturedly. “Go talk to your Iwa-chan.”

“He’s not _my_ Iwa-chan,” Oikawa squawks, but goes and talks to him anyway, because, well.

“Congrats,” Oikawa says, smiling shyly without really thinking about it. “You played well.”

“Thanks,” Iwaizumi says, and then: “I keep forgetting you’re taller than me, what the fuck.”

“It’s okay to be short, Iwa-chan! I can reach the high shelves for you,” Oikawa singsongs, slinging an arm around Iwaizumi like it belonged there.

“Shut up. I’m gonna go change. Are you sticking around?”

“I might be,” Oikawa says.

Iwaizumi scratches the back of his neck. “I think the team’s going out for pizza to celebrate, but I just want to rewatch old Godzilla movies until I pass out at an unreasonable hour because having a sleep schedule is fake.”

“I can come over and make you dinner,” Oikawa blurts out. The Hanamaki that lives in his head whispers “thirsty much?” but thankfully, the real life Hanamaki had already left for the showers, so no one is there to bear witness to Oikawa being uncharacteristically desperate. No one who would care, anyway.

“Wait, you actually know how to cook?” Iwaizumi asks. He tilts his head and looks at Oikawa, like he’s confused about something.

Oikawa makes his most offended face. “Why do you sound so surprised, Iwa-chan? I am a man of many talents. Also, would I spend so much time critiquing other people’s terrible food choices if I didn’t make excellent food choices on my own?”

“Yes,” Iwaizumi deadpans.

Oikawa punches him, but gently. “Anyway, former athlete, learned to make healthy athlete lunches for myself sometime around middle school and then never really stopped,” he says.

“Huh. So did I.”

“So, am I invited?” Oikawa asks.

“Fine,” Iwaizumi says. “I think I went grocery shopping this week. But I’m not letting you near my stove by yourself.”  
“Iwa-chan! I’ll have you know I haven’t set a kitchen on fire in over a year,” Oikawa retorts, and Iwaizumi laughs, loud and bright, and Oikawa feels something warm expand from his chest and out, just from that laugh.

They stand there awkwardly for a few seconds, then Iwaizumi finally leaves to get changed, and Oikawa is treated to a wonderful view of his back.

Oikawa: dude im so gay

Makki: I know

Makki: go get that dick ur embarrassing me

Oikawa: let me live ogm

Oikawa: im oging 2 his apt now

Makki: wow u move fast

Oikawa: we’re just having dinner and watching godzilla c h i ll

Oikawa: will keep you updated

Makki: u better

Iwaizumi’s dorm isn’t that far away, just two stops on the subway and a short walk. The two of them make their way over at a leisurely pace, arguing (of course) about reading preferences this time.

“I haven’t read a book for fun since high school, but I did not enjoy that one Murakami book we had to read. It was way too complicated.”

“Aw, Iwa-chan, it’s okay to be simple-minded,” Oikawa says, and Iwaizumi punches him. “Rude! You probably like Hemingway, he’s super plain and boring.”

Iwaizumi scowls. “Maybe.”

“I knew it!”

“What’s your favorite book? Something like “Aliens are Real and Among You”, by Doctor Definitely a Real Scientist, Ph.D?”

“ACTUALLY,” Oikawa says. “There’s this new book I saw on Twitter called ‘everyone’s an aliebn when ur an aliebn too,’ and I just got it in the mail last week and it’s really good! It’s illustrated, but it’s not really like a comic, and it’s super deep and thoughtful...” he rambles about his Alien book right up until they get to Iwaizumi and Mattsun’s apartment. Iwaizumi throws his duffel bag on the couch and turns to face Oikawa. He is standing, Oikawa thinks, just a bit too close.

“So,” Iwaizumi says. “Dinner.”

“Yup.” Oikawa marches over to the fridge and pulls the door open. “Why do you have so much tofu.” An entire shelf of the tiny fridge is just. Tofu. There’s real vegetables in the vegetable drawer, and even some meat, but there is also far more tofu than Oikawa believes really belongs in a refrigerator.

“I like tofu. I think we already had this conversation.” Iwaizumi starts pulling out ingredients and tools from around the kitchen, evidently having something planned already.

“Did we?”

“You said agedashi tofu was the most boring favorite food ever, and then I said milk bread is even more boring because you don’t even make milk bread, you just buy it from a convenience store, and then you changed my Facebook nickname to The Human Embodiment of Tofu and went offline.”

“Ah. Yes. I remember now.” Oikawa leans back against the counter and watches as Iwaizumi starts making agedashi tofu. “Can I help with anything?”

Iwaizumi hands him a packet of instant dashi powder without looking. “You can make the broth.”

“So commanding, Iwa-chan. Is this how you treat your teammates?”

“You asked for it, Shittykawa.”

“Rude!” He feels strangely calm, standing in this unfamiliar and small kitchen next to an unfairly attractive boy. They talk, and cook, and it’s domestic and nice. A tiny voice in the back of Oikawa’s head whispers, “Imagine doing this every night,” and Oikawa mentally stamps on it because it’s way too early for those kinds of thoughts.

“So, Godzilla, huh?” he says instead, when they’re both sitting on the couch holding plates of perfectly prepared agedashi tofu.

“I really liked it when I was a kid and now it’s like, nostalgia value I guess. I’m not as obsessed as you are with your alien schtick.”

“The truth is out there, Iwa-chan! But actually, the alien thing happened because someone gave me a shirt with an alien face on it when I was like, five, and it was really soft so I wore it a lot, so everyone assumed I liked aliens because I had an alien shirt, so people talked to me about aliens, and that’s how I found my entire internet persona.”

Iwa-chan snorts. “Impressive.”

“So which one are we watching?” Oikawa asks. The last time he saw a Godzilla movie was in his second year of high school, with the rest of his volleyball team during some Team Bonding activity the captain organized. He remembers falling asleep on Hanamaki halfway through and waking up covered in sharpie drawings.

“Mothra vs. Godzilla. From the sixties. It’s the best one besides the original,” Iwaizumi says.

“Why?” Oikawa asks, and Iwaizumi starts talking about special effects and story and the monster battle at the end, and Oikawa stops listening to the words and starts watching Iwaizumi’s lips instead.

“I haven’t seen it, but I’m sure you’re wrong about everything as usual,” he says, when Iwaizumi stops talking and looks at him like he’s asked a question.

Iwaizumi scowls and shoves him slightly. “You weren’t even listening, were you?”

“Was too! You said the special effects were really effective for the era, and also that I’m amazing and wonderful and you’re so glad to be watching this movie with me.” Oikawa puts his plate on the coffee table and slowly and carefully moves closer to Iwaizumi, who, regrettably, doesn’t appear to notice.

“None of those things are true. Except for the special effects thing.”

Iwaizumi really wasn’t exaggerating whenever he talked about how tired he was, it seems, because not even half an hour into the movie he’s leaning against Oikawa, struggling to keep his eyes open. Oikawa runs his hands through the other man’s hair without thinking about it, and Iwaizumi lets out a small sigh of contentment.

Then he falls asleep on Oikawa and that’s when Oikawa realizes, wow, college athletes are _really fucking heavy._

He takes a bunch of photos anyway, and sends one to Hanamaki.

Oikawa: I can’t feel my legs

Makki: that’s what she said ;) ;) ;)

Oikawa: I  w i s h

Makki: also see if u can stay the night because uh mattsun came over here and. Well

Oikawa: nice

Oikawa: will let u kno

Oikawa sends him a picture of a cake that reads “congrats on the sex!” Because he is nothing if not a supportive best friend.

The movie is pretty good, he supposes, for a Godzilla movie. Iwaizumi wakes up again just in time for the final battle.

“Sorry about that,” he says, sitting upright. Oikawa feels strangely cold, but also he can feel the circulation returning to his legs and it’s nothing if not an improvement.

“You’ll just have to make it up to me,” Oikawa says, smirking. “Oh yeah, Makki texted, he wants me to stay over because he’s--” Oikawa waggles his eyebrows-- “ _entertaining._ ”

“I’m okay with it if you are,” Iwaizumi says, fiddling with the remote. “You can borrow my clothes, it’s fine.”

“Great,” Oikawa says, at a slightly higher pitch than normal.

“Great.”

“I’ll uh. Text Makki then,” Oikawa says, and does so.

Makki: if u don’t make a move by tomorrow I’ll have to start meddling and u do not want that

Oikawa: *meddling more than you’ve already been meddling, u mean

Makki: yeah

Makki: anyway FUCKING TELL HIM YOU WEENIE

Oikawa: I K N O  W!!!

“Iwaizumi-”

“Oikawa-”

They start talking at the same time. They chuckle lamely, and Oikawa gestures for Iwaizumi to go first.

“I don’t know how or why this happened, but I like you. Like, romantically. And I don’t think it’s going to go away any time soon. Sorry if this makes things awkward or whatever, but. There it is.” He exhales, and Oikawa’s shocked at how dejected Iwaizumi looks. Like he’s been preparing to get rejected for a while.

“Awkward? Why would this make anything awkward? I’ve had a crush on you since the moment we met and I discovered you were super hot in addition to being the only person who could match my sense of humor. And you always respond to my messages, even at 2 in the morning.” Oikawa leans in and puts one hand on Iwaizumi’s face. “And you care about everything, even though you seem too cool for that.”

“And you care about everything and make sure everyone knows it,” Iwaizumi deadpans, or tries to, except his voice comes out shaky and breathless.

And Oikawa kisses him. It’s perfect. Well, to be fair, Oikawa doesn’t have all that many  kisses to compare it to, but it feels perfect, so it is.

When he wakes up the next morning, wrapped in Iwaizumi’s arms, in his bed, Oikawa snaps a carefully angled selfie and sends it to Hanamaki.

Makki: !!!!

Oikawa: :)

Makki: so are you Officially A Thing (TM) now

Oikawa: :) yes :)

Makki: you have just made me 2000 yen richer, congratulations

Oikawa: u what now

He looks over to make sure Iwaizumi’s still asleep, then: YOU HAD A BET GOING ON MY LOVE LIFE??

Makki: y do u sound so surprised lmao

Oikawa: good point

Oikawa: WAIT

Oikawa: wouldn’t forcing me to stay overnight at iwa-chan’s place count as meddling?

Oikawa sends a thinking emoji.

Makki: ...

Makki: fine you can take half

Oikawa: :/

Makki: compromise: we use it to buy groceries for the both of us

Oikawa: acceptable

Makki: #broomies  
Oikawa: what the fuck is that supposed to mean

Makki: bc we’re bros, and also roomies??

Oikawa: no.

Makki: FINE

Oikawa glances at his sleeping boyfriend- boyfriend?! and takes some pictures. In case he needs to prove to himself later that this was not in fact a fever dream, but a real thing that happened.

Then he messages his friend again.

Oikawa: out of curiosity what was everyone’s bet

Makki: I said you’d make it official by saturday morning, mattsun thought it’d happen earlier, kuroo was banking on that party tonight, yahaba has no faith in you apparently bc he was betting on next month

Oikawa: yahaba :’(

Oikawa: man remember when yahaba was a shiny and new firstie who thought we were super cool senpais

Makki: sure do. the first 3 days of second year were a glorious time

Oikawa: then u did that shorts thing and shattered the illusion

Makki: rip in pieces

Makki: anyway, congrats dude!!

Makki: I’ll see you later probably

Oikawa: see ya~

“Mph,” says Iwaizumi.

“So he lives after all,” Oikawa whispers, sounding far more nervous and giddy than smug. “It’s almost eleven.”

“Mmmph,” Iwaizumi says, and his arms tighten around Oikawa’s waist.

They really are such nice arms, Oikawa reflects briefly, then says, “If you let me go I’ll make you crepes,” and the arms drop immediately. He feels a little like he’d been dropped out of an airplane at the sudden loss of contact. But. He promised Iwa-chan crepes, and crepes he would get.

He makes crepes. Sort of. He checks the cupboards for things to put on them but there’s no Nutella or chocolate of any kind. Eventually, Oikawa locates some fruit in the freezer and sticks it in the microwave to defrost, while Iwaizumi slouches into the kitchen and starts the coffeemaker.

“Why don’t you have anything chocolatey in this place?” Oikawa complains.

“Neither me nor Mattsun have much of a sweet tooth,” Iwaizumi says.

“Lame,” Oikawa announces. “What do you usually put on your crepes, then?”

“Leftovers from dinner, if I’m the one making them,” Iwaizumi admits, then picks up a crepe from the stack Oikawa’s created on a plate. “These look weird.”

“Rude,” Oikawa says, automatically at this point. “But okay, they’re not technically crepes. I learned this from a school friend’s Russian grandmother a long, long time ago. I think they’re called blini? Anyway, same principle. Thin buttery pancakes you put stuff on.”

Iwaizumi folds one up into quarters and takes a bite from the tip. “It’s good,” he says.

“No need to sound so surprised,” Oikawa squawks, offended. “It has been previously established, more than once, that I am competent at making food!” He turns the stove off and slides the last crepe on top of the stack.

“Yeah, yeah.” Iwaizumi wraps his arms around Oikawa’s waist again, and all of Oikawa’s objections die in his throat.

“Good morning,” Iwaizumi whispers, his breath warm against Oikawa’s neck, and Oikawa suppresses a shiver.

“Good morning, Iwa-chan,” he whispers back.

**Author's Note:**

> check me out on twitter @mashazart


End file.
